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Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

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Chapter 133: Banquet [2]

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Chapter 133: Banquet [2]

It took more than a minute to compose myself. To force back the tears threatening to spill over.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

How could I?

Was it really this easy?

The very reason I had started playing this game.

The reason I, a man who had lost everything, become a global criminal, been forced into hiding, and wasted away in a cramped apartment in the middle of nowhere, spending my final years playing a video game, was standing right before me.

“Eun-ah….”

This game… I had seen its credits.

That time, when I was undercover for my final job, I had glanced at my coworker’s screen and noticed a name.

’Seol Eun-ah.’

Not Chae Eun-ah, but Seol.

At the time, I dismissed it. But curiosity had its hold on me, and thorough research revealed something more than I could have imagined.

The game’s developers were from the same company my parents had once worked for.

It was ridiculously impossible. At that time, I thought it to be a mere coincidence.

And yet, when I looked back on it, maybe I had been grasping at straws all along.

After all, I had nothing left.

I lost my family.

My lover.

My comrades.

I had failed my final job, was exposed, declared a global criminal, and forced to flee. I ran. Far from South Korea, from everything I once knew.

But a foolish part of me wanted to believe that somewhere, somehow…

Maybe the little sister I had long forgotten was still alive.

Was I deluding myself? Was it truly a coincidence? Was I so desperate that I clung to the mere possibility that Seol Eun-ah was my Eun-ah?

“….”

And yet, that single thought consumed me and had driven me to play this game.

Maybe… there were clues.

Maybe she really was trying to find me—through this game.

Considering it was a project my parents’ company had once started but never finished, it wasn’t impossible. It was just enough hope to hold onto for a dying man.

“….”

From what I had gathered, Seol Eun-ah was a game designer responsible for in-game models. She wasn’t the only one, of course, but I was certain of one thing.

The Saintess standing before me definitely looked like Eun-ah. Except, her eyes were green.

I had seen the Saintess before, of course. I knew what she was supposed to look like.

At least, from the promotional material.

After this banquet, the Saintess was never seen in public again. Yet, there were always glimpses, illustrations, descriptions, grainy screenshots captured by players so enamored by her beauty that they tried to preserve her image.

I had seen those images before. I had searched for them, and studied them closely to reveal what the Saintess looked like.

And this wasn’t the face I had seen back then.

“….”

No, this person standing before me, not even sparing me a single glance….

She was undoubtedly modeled after my little sister, Eun-ah.

“….”

Despite the lack of attention on me, to the point that even the Saintess herself hadn’t noticed my presence, I couldn’t ignore it.

The man standing beside the Saintess was subtly glaring at me.

“….”

An inexplicable emotion welled up within me.

Why?

Why was he looking at me like that?

More than that, why did the sight of a stranger standing beside Eun-ah… no, the Saintess—stir something so vile within me?

A disgusting feeling coiled in my chest.

“I…

I wanted to take her and run.

To escape this place. To run away back to my world.

Far, far away.

Eun-ah… even if she wasn’t Eun-ah… she was Eun-ah.

——Vanitas.

A voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. At the same moment, I felt a light tug at my sleeve.

“What—!”

My brows furrowed as I turned, irritation flaring for a moment, only for it to vanish the moment I met Charlotte’s gaze.

Her expression was tight with worry, but beneath it, something else became clear to me.

Fear.

“….”

I froze.

My breath caught as I took in the way her pupils had dilated as her face subtly paled.

She looked… shaken. As if something buried deep inside her had surfaced at the sight of me.

I unclenched my fists, forcing the tension out of my body. My expression softened as I realized what I must have looked like just now.

“Charlotte, I—”

Before I could say anything, Charlotte swallowed hard and cut me off.

“I’m sorry… B-Brother… I’m—”

Her voice wavered, as if she wasn’t even sure what she was apologizing for.

And that was when I knew.

She didn’t know what she was afraid of.

Only that, for a split second, she had seen something in me that reminded her of something terrible.

Noticing the shifting gazes around us, I quickly pulled Charlotte away. A few guests had already begun glancing between us.

We moved back to where we had originally stood. By then, Priscilla was already gone.

I exhaled, steadying myself before turning to Charlotte.

“Charlotte, I’m sorry. I… something just came up.”

Charlotte remained silent, her hands still trembling slightly.

She looked at me, searching for something. Maybe an explanation, a reassurance. Anything that would help her understand what she had just witnessed.

But what could I say?

That I had lost myself in something that shouldn’t even be possible?

That for a fleeting moment, I had wanted to throw away everything and take the Saintess away?

That, deep down, a part of me still refused to let go?

I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the thoughts threatening to rise again.

“It won’t happen again,” I said.

Charlotte lowered her gaze, gripping the hem of her dress before exhaling.

“….Okay.”

But she didn’t sound convinced. Turning away, I cast one last glance at the Saintess, who was smiling softly as she entertained her guests.

Even if she looked like Eun-ah, I forced myself to accept the truth.

She wasn’t Eun-ah. She couldn’t be. No matter how much I wanted to believe so otherwise.

I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and shifted my focus to the present.

Charlotte.

At that moment, I reached out, gently pulling my little sister into a soft embrace.

She tensed at first, but I ran a hand over the back of her head, smoothing down her hair with slow, careful strokes.

“Sorry… I was just caught up in something. I didn’t mean it.

Charlotte didn’t respond immediately, but I felt her relax, even if just a little.

“Un.”

* * *

Karina stood frozen, her mind spiraling.

Her father… was gone.

The only person she had left, the only one she had ever considered family, had left her.

Just like her mother.

Just like her real father.

They had all left her.

A hollow numbness settled in her chest. It was both suffocating and unbearable.

“What do you wish to do now, Miss Maeril?”

“….”

The doctor’s voice pulled her back to reality. Karina blinked, barely registering the question.

What did she want to do?

She didn’t know.

She had nowhere to go, nor was there anyone waiting for her. For the first time, she wondered.

Was there even anyone left who expected anything from her?

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, her trembling hands curled into fists at her sides.

Because at that moment, the only thing she truly felt was lost.

The doctor sighed. “You don’t have to decide now.”

Karina barely acknowledged him. Her mind was a whirlwind of emptiness, of memories that felt like ghosts haunting her already breaking heart.

“….”

She clenched her fists tighter.

What now?

Sensing her hesitation, the doctor sighed before quietly excusing himself, leaving her alone.

“….”

Karina lowered her head, shadows darkening her expression as she sank into one of the cold metal chairs in the reception area.

Planning a funeral… that was the right thing to do.

But who would even attend? She knew nothing about her stepfather’s relatives. If he even had any.

No one had come when he was hospitalized. She alone had shouldered the medical bills, stayed by his side, and watched as his life slowly drained from him.

He was a commoner, much like herself and her mother. A journalist. That much she knew, but he had always been secretive about his work.

Now that she thought about it, outside of the warmth and happiness he had given her, how much did she really know about him?

He had never told her much about his past. Nor had he ever shared intimate details about his life before meeting her mother.

Karina had tried asking before. But he had always given her simple answers. Just enough to satisfy her curiosity, yet never enough to truly understand deeper.

Why?

She had never pressed further, assuming he had his reasons. And while they were close, there had to be a boundary of respect between the two.

It was then.

——Excuse me.

A voice pulled her from her thoughts. Karina turned toward the source, her gaze landing on a man seated nearby.

But she barely acknowledged him.

Right now, she had no patience, nor any energy to entertain anyone. All she wanted was to curl up, shut her eyes, and sleep until the pain finally numbed.

——Are you Miss Karina Maeril?

“….”

Her fingers tensed slightly.

Something about the way he asked made her pause. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, properly taking in the man before her.

“….”

He wasn’t a doctor. Nor did he look like someone from the hospital staff.

And yet, he knew her name.

“….Who are you?” she asked.

“Ah, I’m Alex Homer. I used to work as a publisher for a small publishing company.”

“….”

The words meant nothing to her.

Alex hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before leaning slightly forward.

“I knew your father… at least, in some capacity. We worked in the same field, though we weren’t exactly close colleagues. I’ve only known his real name until recently… actually.”

Karina’s brows furrowed. “His real name?”

“Ah, yes… He often submitted articles under a pen name.”

Karina stilled. “What was it?”

For a moment, Alex didn’t answer. His fingers tapped lightly against the fabric of his slacks before he met her gaze.

“William Camus.”

* * *

Astrid recognized several familiar faces among the crowd. Indeed, they were High Nobles from the Empire she had once associated with.

Beside her stood her sister, Irene.

No… that wasn’t quite right.

Right now, Irene was at the center of attention. Like a flower in full bloom, she was showered with admiration from countless aristocrats vying for her favor.

After all, Irene was no ordinary noblewoman.

A princess.

A celebrated public figure.

A beauty unlike any other.

And most importantly, single.

To these men, she was an opportunity. A chance to marry into the Imperial Family.

But Astrid felt no concern over the prospect of some stranger sweeping her sister away. Because, truthfully, she couldn’t imagine Irene marrying anyone at all.

Her sister had been engaged numerous times in the past, yet none had lasted.

Each time, Irene found a way to call it off. Perhaps her longest engagement had been half a year with the Duke Family, Omerta.

But even that, in the end, had amounted to nothing.

Astrid never understood why.

Her sister had been matched with handsome, capable, and ideal husbands by any noble’s standard. Yet, Irene never seemed interested in settling down.

It was absurd, to the point that even their father had long given up on the matter.

Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to bother Irene in the slightest. She was, without a doubt, an independent woman who was fully capable of carrying her own weight without relying on any man.

“Ah, Lady Astrid Barielle Aetherion.”

Astrid turned at the sound of her name.

A nobleman stood before her, and she recognized him immediately. A second-year student at the Silver University Tower, a member of the Marquess Family, Elodia.

Before she could respond, another voice interrupted.

“Hey, I was here first!”

Another nobleman.

Astrid resisted the urge to sigh.

It wasn’t just Irene who was being swarmed with attention tonight.

Though Irene had a mesmerizing allure, Astrid had her own quiet charm. So much so that, back in her high school years, she had once been unofficially given the title of school belle.

And it seemed that reputation had followed her here.

She maintained a polite smile, her voice calm as she addressed them. “Gentlemen, surely you didn’t come all this way just to exchange pleasantries?”

Elodia offered a smooth response. “Of course. I was simply hoping for the honor of a dance later this evening, my Lady.”

“Tch.” The second nobleman scoffed, crossing his arms. “You’re too forward, Elodia. At least let the lady enjoy the banquet before pressing her for a dance.”

It didn’t take long before another nobleman joined in.

Then another.

And then another.

“….”

Astrid held back another sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Irene, ever so vigilant, kept a watchful eye for any sign of Vanitas Astrea.

“Is something the matter, Lady Irene?”

Despite the noblemen surrounding her, there was no trace of him.

Didn’t he say he was going to find her?

Or was he even here at all?

Was he late?

Did he even bother to come?

Suppressing her impatience, Irene closed her eyes and called upon her mana. When she opened them again, values flashed into existence before her.

The noblemen closest to her bore numbers, 20, 26, 34, 43, respectively.

“Hm.”

Then, her gaze swept across the room. More values hovered over the heads of various attendees, shifting and fluctuating in real-time.

“….”

Suddenly, a sharp migraine pulsed through her skull, forcing her to take a deep breath.

There were too many people. With a crowd this large, using her ability came at a price.

The backlash was inevitable.

“….”

Gritting her teeth, Irene steadied herself, directing her focus toward the centerpiece of the evening.

The Saintess.

Seated like an untouchable flower, she observed the hall with serene detachment, as if untouched by the commotion around her.

Irene’s gaze lingered, analyzing her presence. Her vision sharpened as she gauged the Saintess’s value.

95.

A fitting number. She truly lived up to the title of Saintess.

Unfortunately, Irene hadn’t been able to speak with her.

Earlier, the Saintess had been surrounded by nobles eager to secure a moment of her time. Even now, while the formal meetings had concluded, the evening had shifted into a more relaxed phase as the banquet had begun.

Perhaps now, she would finally have the chance to approach.

But just as she took a step forward….

Flick—!

The lights dimmed. A hush fell over the hall as an elegant chime rang through the venue, signaling an announcement that resounded through the grand chamber.

——Honored guests of the Theocracy, we extend our gratitude for your presence tonight. As tradition dictates, the banquet shall now proceed to its most anticipated event. The Masquerade Dance.

——As per custom, this evening presents an opportunity unlike any other. A dance with the noble and esteemed guests present tonight.

The Saintess, seated in quiet grace, lifted her gaze. The faintest of smiles touched her lips as all eyes turned to her.

——But here’s the twist…. The Saintess Selena herself has graciously offered to partake in this evening’s dance!

A collective gasp resounded through the hall.

——As per tradition, the Saintess shall offer a single dance to be granted to the one whose name she calls. Only one shall be given this honor.

A moment of silence followed, and Irene’s lips pressed together.

“….”

* * *

——♬♫♪♩

It didn’t take long for the center of the hall to be filled with nobles, elegantly moving through the dance floor in their masks. The anonymity was part of the charm.

“….”

Vanitas stood at the edge of the festivities, arms crossed, tapping his fingers idly against his sleeve as he observed the spectacle.

“Would you care to give this lady a dance, my dear brother?”

Charlotte’s voice broke through his thoughts.

He turned, finding his sister before him, extending her hand in invitation.

A dance? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t learned. Dancing was a necessary skill in the world of espionage, after all.

In fact, he had already planned on stepping onto the dance floor but with a different goal in mind.

The Saintess.

The woman who bore Eun-ah’s face.

He needed to speak with her personally at least once, but was pondering on how he could capture her attention in a room filled with nobility.

For now, he set those thoughts aside.

“I suppose I can’t refuse,” he said.

He reached out, taking her hand.

Charlotte’s smile widened as she led him toward the dance floor. The lights shimmered as it reflected off their masks.

——♬♫♪♩

And just like that, the Astrea siblings began their slow waltz.

Despite everything, Charlotte moved with natural elegance. Her steps were both fluid and refine.

——♬♫♪♩

Vanitas was no less skilled. Though not a man who often indulged in ballroom dances, his movements were never clumsy.

Their steps mirrored one another, neither overstepping as they synchronized to the melodious tune.

“Don’t worry about earlier too much, Vanitas. I was just shocked, that’s all.”

Vanitas nodded, seamlessly twirling Charlotte in a graceful arc as they danced.

Flick—!

The lights dimmed momentarily before brightening again as everyone paused briefly.

Then, the music changed.

——♬♫♪♩

The once-melodious tune shifted into a livelier, more rhythmic beat, signaling the natural transition of the dance.

It was time to switch partners.

Around them, nobles moved in elegant rotations, stepping away from their previous partners to greet a new one.

Vanitas released Charlotte’s hand as she gracefully moved into another’s embrace.

And before he could even register who stood before him, his eyes widened.

“Ah…?”

Even beneath the masquerade mask, it was obvious. He could never mistake her face.

And neither could she as their eyes locked, pupils dilated in recognition.

“P-Professor?”

“Uh….”

“Professor. Y-You’re Professor Vanitas, right?” she stammered, her face flushing red.

It was none other than Astrid.

Vanitas blinked, his mind briefly stalling before he exhaled and regained his composure.

Then, with a slight bow, he extended his hand.

“Will you offer me this dance, my lady?”

“I— W-Well, I suppose it would be rude to refuse…!” she said, hurriedly placing her hand in his.

The moment their fingers intertwined, the music swelled once more, guiding them into motion.

But just as Vanitas moved, something shifted.

———!

His body stiffened, his breath hitching as a sudden image flashed through his mind.

Pitter. Patter.

A man, drenched in the cold, suffocating rain as he stood before a grave.

[Julia Barielle]

Tears welled up within the man’s eyes, his shoulders visibly trembling under the downpour.

He was all alone, with no one else, as he spoke with a shaky voice.

——I’m so sorry… I truly wanted to save you… I really did. I’m sorry I failed you, Aunt Julia. Even after you placed your trust in me…

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